


Smash the Mirror

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aztec Myths & Legends, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Colorado, Destiel - Freeform, Divination, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Human Sacrifice, Just Desserts, Last Day On Earth, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Language, Monster of the Week, Murder Most Foul, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Protective Sam Winchester, References to Aztec Religion & Lore, Slash, Tricksters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:38:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters investigate multiple heartless bodies found in Colorado that seem to be tied to an ancient Mesoamerican ritual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hear or Fear

**Author's Note:**

> **Canon spoilers** : This may contain spoilers from any canon episode of Supernatural through 08x20 "Pac-Man Fever."
> 
>  **THEN**  
>  [[09x01 – Summertime Blues](http://archiveofourown.org/works/922542)]   
> Castiel agreed to be a little more human in the field to avoid angelic assassins.  
> [[09x03 - Loaded Dice](http://archiveofourown.org/works/922613)]   
> Dean began experiencing nightmares that concerned Cas and Sam, and Castiel helped the Winchesters take down a wraith.

**August 26, 2013 @ 6:00am** [ _T - 36 hours_ ]

Castiel knew something was wrong. It was the way Dean stood: the slouch in his hip, the hitch in his breath. 

"Dean?"

Cas was halfway through making the bed. For some reason, he found this activity enjoyable, albeit tedious, since he couldn't use any of his powers in their room. He stopped when Dean didn't respond. 

Dean stared back at Cas, looking right into his eyes.

"Dean?" the angel repeated, walking over to him. "What's wrong?"

It wasn't a blurt or a whisper or a mumble. Dean made full eye contact, and with no hesitation, no provocation, he said, "I love you."

"I love you, Dean." 

He reached out and touched his hunter's face. _Maybe something wasn't wrong_ , Cas thought. _Maybe, this time, something was right._

After all, it felt right. Dean insisted that guys don't talk about their feelings, but maybe that rule expired, like old milk or cheese. 

Cas pulled Dean into a long, slow kiss. 

"You finished the case out in Colorado?" he asked when they broke apart.

"Yeah, Sam stayed back there for the granola and the hiking or whatever," Dean replied. 

"What happened?"

Dean kissed Castiel back. 

"Nothing worth talking about right now," he said.

 

 **August 20, 2013 @ 6:00pm** [ _T - 168 hours_ ]

 _One week earlier..._ **Gunnison, Colorado**. Gilbert DeWitt, a burly thirty-year-old, hiked out to the cliffs. Twilight settled over the mountains, and everything fell silent. 

But it wasn't long before he heard voices. Light and shadow: a fire up ahead. He was close.

Gilbert slipped into a small enclosure surrounded by rocks.  
Indeed, a large fire burned in the middle, and a figure sat by it, waiting.

"I've come to see," Gilbert said to the figure, not sure if he should approach.

The figure stood. Gilbert had to steady himself when he saw the man's eyes. They were light brown, almost yellow, with a thin slice of dark brown that met the pupil, and there was not one spec of white.

"I will warn you," the figure spoke, "that what you see will come to pass. Nothing can be done to change that."

"I understand."

"Then place your offering in the fire."

Gilbert took a small box from his bag. He opened it to reveal a freshly bleeding human heart.

"My offering, from a worthy opponent," he said as he threw it into the fire.

The minutes ticked by as the fire consumed the heart. Then the darkness became thicker, a cloud of murky smoke, and within that smoke, Gilbert DeWitt saw his own future. He felt the color fade from his eyes. 

"Please, tell me, tell me what I can do to escape this," he begged.

"I told you," the figure replied, "what you see shall come to pass."


	2. Reflection

**August 26, 2013 @ 8:00am** ( _T - 34 hours_ )

Dean smelled bacon. He opened his eyes. Cas placed a standing tray over Dean, breakfast in bed.

"You've been holding out on me," Dean said. "Where'd you get this idea?"

"I Love Lucy," the angel replied.

"We gotta talk about your choice in television, but damn if you don't have the right idea." 

He started on the eggs first.

"You seem to supplement verbal affection for things like this," Cas explained. "In accordance with us being guys."

Dean took a piece of bacon and held it out in front of Cas's lips. 

"It's great. Try it."

Something about having an angel literally eating out of his hand made him feel elated. 

"Was it him?" Castiel asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"No, you were right, Cas."

"Did you discover who – "

" – Sam's the nerdy one," Dean interrupted lightly. "He'll be able to jibber on about the legend and crap when he gets back, like he usually does."

 

 **August 21, 2013 @ 8:00am** ( _T - 154 hours_ )

"I gotta case," Sam announced as he came into the war room attracted by the smell of breakfast.

"Sam, it's too early in the morning," Dean replied.

No matter how many times he saw Castiel with sloppy, crazy sex hair, Sam just couldn't get used to it. The angel didn't seem to mind his hair being a mess. This morning it was particularly messy, plastered to one side of his head and sticking up on the other. 

"Nice hair," Sam commented, trying to bury the mental images bubbling to the surface.

"Thank you," Cas replied, missing the sarcasm completely.

Sam grabbed eggs and toast and joined them at the table. 

"Gunnison, Colorado," Sam said. "Three bodies with missing hearts, all within the last week. Coroner's reports say that the hearts were removed when the vics were still alive."

"Awesome."

"Lunar cycle is wrong for a werewolf," Sam said cheerfully. "But it could be a skinwalker."

"Nerd," Dean declared.

"When do we leave?" Castiel asked.

"Sam and I will," Dean said. "But you'll be here, working on close quarter combat and practicing at the firing range."

The angel furrowed his brow at Dean. "I can work on that later."

"The last two cases you've been out with us on, they both required heavy-duty fighting."

"I did well the last time," Cas said as he looked to Sam for confirmation since Dean was unconscious during the takedown.

"He did, Dean, really well."

"Maybe, but with the God Squad targeting Cas, it's better not to take chances we don't need to," Dean said as he picked up his dishes. "So this time, Cas, you stay here and practice."

Castiel sulked but didn't complain.

 

 **August 21, 2013 @ 4:00pm** ( _T - 146 hours_ )

The road to Gunnison was long and mountainous. Dean had been oddly shifty the entire drive, and after their pit stop in Salida, Sam had finally had enough.

"What's up with you today?" he asked.

"Me? Oh, nothing. Except we just closed that crazy wraith case," Dean replied. "We didn't even get a full day in between."

"We could've brought Cas with us," Sam pointed out. "He did really well the other day, Dean. No angel mojo. He even resisted healing you when you were all wraith'd up."

"Maybe, but we don't really know," Dean let slip. 

"Know what exactly?"

The elder Winchester huffed at his verbal vomit, but he decided to push ahead anyway. 

"We don't know what shows up on angel radar. How do we know that he doesn't light up the map when he sniffs for EMF?"

"He'd've mentioned it," Sam replied. "Com'on Dean, he's not holding back, he's really – "

" – I know that, Sam," Dean interrupted. 

"Okay, then what is it?"

Dean reached over to turn up Led Zeppelin; Sam pushed his hand away. 

"Seriously, Sam?"

"Seriously, Dean. Spill."

"The last two times we were out of the Bunker with Cas, I had those nightmares you both were bitching over," Dean finally admitted. "The only time I've had them is when Cas is with us on a case."

"So, what, you think someone's targeting you, trying to find Cas?"

"The point is, I don't know, and I don't want to find out the hard way, as in, I don't want to be on the end of some dickwad angel's blade in my boxers in some motel room because they finally zeroed in on us."

Sam easily translated Dean's bitterness as, 'I don't want my boyfriend to die because I was stupid.' But he indulged his brother's cynicism for the rest of the car ride.

 

 **August 21, 2013 @ 6:00pm** : ( _T - 144 hours_ )

The Gunnison Police Department only staffed five officers. Sheriff Ashley Greenfield, a woman in her mid-forties, pulled them into her office as soon as they arrived.

"The FBI's actually here?" she asked as she closed the door behind them. 

"Agents Johnson and Bonham," Sam said, pointing first to Dean that to himself. "We're here because of a possible serial killer in the area."

Dean added, "And, if you don't mind, we'd like to keep this on the Q.T."

"Why?" Ash asked. "The local community needs the reassurance right now."

"Because we want to catch this guy, not scare him off," Sam replied. "If he's in the area and catches our scent, he could run."

"I'll talk to my boys about keeping quiet, but in the meantime, you two should ditch the suits."

"Right, we will," Dean agreed. 

"So what can you tell us about the case?"

"First victim, Andrew Collins, died about a week ago. As soon as his body was found, I assumed it was connected to the other murder three years ago."

"Sorry, what?" Sam asked. "We weren't informed about a similar homicide from that far back."

"Can't convince anyone else they're connected." 

"You got that file here?" Dean asked. 

"'Course." 

She handed the top file from her inbox off to Sam.

"Jude Kirkland. Like the others, restrained and heart cut out. All while he was alive."

"With two broken legs," Sam added. 

"Yup, best the coroner could figure was someone beat him with something blunt."

"We talking baseball bat?" Dean asked.

"Yup, like that. Then tied him down to something and cut him open," Ash replied.

"Sheriff - " Sam started.

"It's Ashley," she interrupted. "Call me Ash."

"Ash," Sam repeated. "This body was found at the base of a cliff?"

"Yup, by some hikers."

"Not tied up to anything?" Dean asked.

"Nope, when he was found, he wasn't bound, just like the other three."

"Any chance there's a standing theory?" Dean aked.

"Satanic cult, of course," she replied. "I think the killer's just a twisted asshole, personally."

"That's likely the case," Dean agreed. 

"Any chance we can get in to see the bodies tonight?"

"Tell you what, I'll call Carl in. By the time you ditch the suits, he'll be down at the morgue," Ash answered.

 

 **August 21, 2013 @ 7:00pm** ( _T - 143 hours_ )

The Gunnison morgue wasn't equipped to deal with more than three bodies at a time. Carl the coroner was an ex-army doctor, buff and built, and his presence made the room feel a lot smaller.

"You the FBI we're not talkin' 'bout?" Carl asked.

"That's us," Dean said. 

They had changed into their jackets and jeans for the occasion.

"Well, this one's personal, you hear?"

"You know one of the victims?" Sam asked.

"No. The only victim that was local was the first one, Lauren Kane," he replied. "The other two, Fredrick Jablonski and Emily Overstreet, were camping and hiking out here together."

"But to you this is personal?" Sam asked.

"See, Lauren was an Army Corporal, home on leave," he said. "Jablonski and Overstreet were both in the Navy."

"All of them had military careers?" Sam asked. 

Dean could tell that his brother was onto something. He could practically see his nerd brain clicking away.

"Not just military careers. They were decorated for their service, you understand?"

"I do," Dean said. "My father was in the marines."

"Trust us, we wanna stop this guy," Sam insisted.

"Good."

"You found the last body?" Sam asked Carl.

"I did, out hiking," he replied. "After we found the second body, we started looking for the camper that had gone out with him. The forestry service is good at keeping track of that stuff."

"So you were looking for her?" Dean slipped in.

"I guess, yeah, but I was looking for her to be alive," Carl replied.

"Does Lauren Kane have a next of kin nearby?" 

"Her dad. Should be in the file. You need anything else, agents?"

"You said the forestry service keeps tabs on hikers, campers?"

"Sure do."

"Who should we call to get that list?"

"We've got Oakes. Jason Oakes." He pulled a plastic card from his pocket. "Here's a copy of his card."

 

 **August 21, 2013 @ 10:00pm** ( _T - 140 hours_ )

The motel room wasn't half bad, but it was located right by the busiest street in town and had the thinnest curtains possible. 

Sam had been working quietly on his computer for over two hours now, which made Dean nervous. Sam knew this, but he couldn't stop. Something about the injuries, the method of the kill, rang a bell in his head.

The trouble about the Men of Letters society was that they had catalogued too much. Too much about monsters. Too much about demons. Too much about ancient deities. Too much about sorcery, witchcraft, and binding magic. Too much about rituals.

'That's it,' Sam thought to himself. 'That's what I'm thinking of, a ritual.'

He typed madly as he searched for a ritual involving the sacrifice of a warrior.

"Aztecs," Sam said out loud.

"What?"

"The four deaths are all related to a ritual performed by the Aztecs and other Mesoamerican cultures." 

Sam's eyes slid over the section on ritual sacrifice. Unfortunately, under that particular heading, there were plenty of candidates. 

"You don't think this is a skinwalker?" Dean asked.

"I guess it could be," Sam dismissed. "But, a skinwalker usually just takes the heart. It doesn't need to tie a guy down to rip out a heart."

"Isn't that an Indiana Jones thing?" Dean joked.

"Yes, but it's also similar to how the Aztecs sacrificed to a number of gods, like Huehueteotl and Huitzilopochtli."

"Uh, way-taytot-il? Wheat Seal Poached? Really?"

"No, Dean, Way-way-tay-ot-il, the old fire god, and weet-seel-oh-poached-lee, the war god."

"Okay, so you think the Wonder Twins of the Aztec Deity Circuit are down here ganking people in Colorado?"

"Actually, I think people are sacrificing to them, or one of them anyway. Probably Huitzilopochtli, since sacrifices to Huehueteotl involved burning the body."

"Why would anyone do that?"

"Well, the Aztecs sacrificed warriors they captured in battle," Sam explained. "War tactics for a lot of Mesoamerican cultures involved capture instead of killing. They'd club their knees or their back to put them down, so they could take their opponent home to be sacrificed in thanks to the war god."

"Then are we looking for some freaky critter or just a freak?"

"Like I said, it could be coincidence. But the way the bodies were found, thrown down over the side of a cliff after their hearts were removed. It makes me think human sacrifice, not heart eating."

"Let's go with that. How do we stop it?"

"Good question." 

Sam wasn't sure. They'd killed witches, psychics, and other human assholes before, but this could just be some crazy serial killer perverting ancient ritual. 

"Maybe this isn't our case," the younger Winchester said.

"Isn't our case?" Dean repeated dumbly. "How is this not our case?"

"Right now, it sounds more serial killer than monster."

"And what about the Aztec gods you were just jabbering about?"

"There's no indication that they're here, Dean, just that some whack job is killing for them. Big difference."

Dean liked the idea of heading home, but he didn't like the idea of leaving a case behind.

"Okay, before we drop the ball, let's poke around a little bit, make sure this is a human whack job, before we vamoose."

"No, I agree." 

"Then I'm calling it," Dean stated, heading for the bathroom to change.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 10:00am** ( _T - 32 hours_ )

Dean pulled on a fresh pair of pajamas. Cas found it incredibly nice, seeing his hunter without a gun in his hand or a blade in his pocket.

"How did you sleep?" Castiel asked.

"Ah, I didn't."

"You did, for two hours. I watched the other coyote and bird cartoons while you slept."

"Whoa, it's ten already? I guess I did sleep."

"When you were away, did you have any more of those nightmares?" the angel asked.  
"Just one. To be honest, Cas, I'm not sure we have to worry about them."

"Will you tell me about it anyway?"

A few moments of thought. Dean bit his lip, then said, "One condition: no researching, no looking crap up, or anything like that. Not today. Okay?"

"Okay."

 

 **August 22, 2013 @ 4:00am** ( _T - 134 hours_ )

Dean was sitting up in his motel bed, thinking. Insomnia hadn't really been something he'd ever dealt with, besides drinking it away. Right now all he could do was sit and wait it out. 

"Brother, you gotta hear me, okay? You listenin'? I'm tryin' to let you know... you gotta hear me, brother," said the same familiar voice Dean heard from his nightmares. This time, though, he was awake. 

"Who are you?" he asked the room, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sam. "What do you want?"

"I'm tryin' to warn ya, they've gotta plan, and it's comin' for ya, ya understand me?" 

The lights flickered. 

Kevin Tran stood in front of him. 

"Kevin?" Dean asked, "What're you doing... how did you get here?"

Kevin's eyes went demon-red. "Sorry, boys," came Crowley's voice from Kevin's mouth. "Prophet's in my pocket now. And he's not going anywhere!"

Dean chanted "wake up" to himself. This time it only took him four tries before he found himself lying in bed. Sweat pinned the sheets to his body. 

"Why can't it ever be a wet dream?" Dean muttered to himself. 

He looked over at Sam. He was still asleep. Looks like, this time at least, he hadn't been screaming.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 12:00pm** ( _T - 32 hours_ )

"You recognized the voice?" Castiel asked. "But you aren't sure who?"

Dean stood up and stretched hugely. "Yeah, basically."

"Was it a woman's voice?" 

"No, it was definitely a guy's," Dean replied. Then he stopped. "Hey, wait, you promised, no research crap on the nightmare."

"I did. My apologies."

Cas moved so he was sitting on the side of the bed next to Dean. 

"You've been acting very out of character," the angel commented. "But I don't detect any poison, or spell, or curse, or anything abnormal."

"What, are you saying I gotta be cursed to be happy?" 

"Of course not," Cas said. "But you've been very open the past few hours. I just want to know. Is there some special reason?"

Dean took a deep breath. He moved toward Cas, putting his hands on either shoulder.

"Well, you could say I'm just taking some advice," he said. "I gotta say, it doesn't suck."

The very Dean-esque endearment made Castiel relax, and a smile spread across his face. He slid his hands to Dean's elbows, pulling him in and down, so Dean knelt on the bed, straddling his lap. 

"I'm glad," Cas whispered.

 

 **August 22, 2013 @ 10:00am** ( _T - 128 hours_ )

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

The sound was continuous, persistent, and annoying. Dean opened his eyes. Apparently, he fell back asleep after his nightmare.

"Sam, did you forget the key?" Dean started. 

It wasn't Sam because the younger Winchester was answering the door.

"Please, you have to let me in," a small voice came from outside. "You're the FBI Agents, right?"

Sam let him in. The man was sturdy looking but he had a wild, feral feel to him, like a predator cornered with machetes drawn on him.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked.

"My name is Todd Sterling," he blathered. "And I am here to ask you, no, to beg you not to kill me."

"What?" Dean said, barely awake. "Why would we kill you?"

"I don't know why. He didn't show me why. He only shows how," Todd continued. "All I know is, at dusk tonight, you both shoot me." 

Sam turned his head to Dean, completely lost for words.


	3. Eruption

**August 22, 2013 @ 11:00am** ( _T - 127 hours_ )

Todd Sterling sat in the motel room. He was so terrified that he was literally shaking. 

"Sorry, it's a little early for me to be talking about crap like this," Dean said. "You're telling us that we kill you tonight, and you know this because you had a vision?"

"I was given a vision," Todd replied. "There's a man in the mountains, he conjures up something that shows you your future."

"And you just stumbled onto this guy?" Sam asked.

"No, a friend told me about him. Look, I was desperate. I've been getting death treats. I just wanted to know if they were real."

"We haven't been threatening you," Dean snapped.

"I know, I know, so I figured, the vision must be bogus, right? But what if I'm wrong? What if you guys are here to kill me?" He added lamely, "Please don't."

Sam looked at Dean. Apparently Todd even got on the younger Winchester's nerves, which said something.

"Look, chuckles, we're not here to kill you, okay?" Dean said. "You think you can lead us to this place you're talking about?"

"I think so, yeah, but you can only find him there at dusk. If you go too early and wait, he won't show."

"Then let's meet up around five, you lead us there," Sam said. "You'll be okay for the rest of the day without us, right?"

Todd nodded, "Yeah, sure. Thanks, thank you."

With that, Dean nearly shoved Todd out the door. 

"You think Shaggy's scarefest is related to crazy heart-ripping ritual?"

"Dean, when are there ever two crazy things going on at the same time?" 

"Okay, so missing hearts and visions. Sound like a tribute to you?"

"Huh, that actually makes sense," Sam replied.

"Don't be so surprised," Dean shot back. 

"No, I mean, someone hands out death omens and scares the crap out of anyone stupid enough to ask for one. They freak out and die, and wham: tribute. Like that truth goddess we ran into a few years ago."

"Let's hope this time it's not another crazy cat lady."

Sam's phone rang. 

"Agent Bonham," he answered. "What? When? ...Yeah, thanks, Sheriff. Ash, right. ...Actually, I do have one request. Could you pull files about any recent deaths in the general area, no matter how mundane they might seem? ...Great, thanks. We'll see you there." 

"What's up?" Dean asked as his brother hung up. 

"Another body."

 

 **August 22, 2013 @ 3:00pm** ( _T - 123 hours_ )

Carl the coroner lay on his own slab.

"I got files on all recent deaths, but local ones only, sorry. All I could get on short notice," Ash said.

"Thank you," Sam replied. "And I'm really sorry about Carl. He seemed like a good guy."

Dean wondered how his brother made shit like that sound so genuine. 

"I have to inform next of kin. Worst part of being sheriff," Ash excused herself.

Sam flipped through the files.

"We do we got?" 

"Dean, it's been three seconds."

"Give me a file, then, brainiac."

The Winchesters began shifting through the papers togheter.

"Animal attack in Salida," Sam said.

"This one isn't relevant, dude died by cancer."

"This guy drowned in his bathtub, and this other one died of heart-related complications."

Dean asked, "You mean like, ripped out of his chest?"

"More like scared to death. At least, that's what his photo looks like." 

Dean looked at the file. 'Scared to death,' was putting it mildly. It was more like, 'Terrified and petrified from the inside out.' 

"That ain't right," Dean commented. 

"Says here he was an aspiring film producer, working on a story called _Haunted Cliffs and Hellhounds_. Guessing his genre is horror."

"Huh, what about the others?"

"The drowning victim... was a competitive swimmer and sailor."

"Animal attack lady... trained tigers and elephants for the circus," Dean said. He paused and looked up from the file for a moment. "Fucking seriously? They write shit like that down?"

"Small town, I guess. I mean, how many tiger tamers you think this area has?"

"I thought this was a tribute thing. Doesn't this sound like, you know..."

"Trickster deaths?" Sam completed. "Yeah, but, Gabriel's dead, so..."

"He's not the only one. Bobby said there's a crapload of them."

"Okay, so, maybe the others had tricks played on them, too?" Sam suggested.

"If that's the case, this guy has taken, what, seven people now?"

"Eight, if we count the one three years ago."

"We got the makings for a Trickster-stabbing stick?" the elder Winchester asked.

"I keep one in the car. I'll call meltdown-Todd and make sure he's still capable of getting us there," Sam said.

"You think Todd's gone guano?"

"He honestly believes he's only got one day left. I mean, what would you do, Dean?"

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 3:00pm** ( _T - 27 hours_ )

Dean's head was placed on Cas's bare chest. As he sat there, looking up to the ceiling of their room, Dean wondered if he should tell him. Before he could really process the idea, Cas shifted. Suddenly Dean was on his back, and the angel had his feet in his hands, rubbing them.

"Sometimes," Cas said, quietly like a confession. "I feel like there's so much I have to make up for. There's not enough time to – "

"Stop," Dean cut him off. He took Cas's hands in his own. "Just, stop. You're forgiven. You've been forgiven. You understand?"

"Dean – " 

"I know what it's like, Cas," Dean interrupted again. "I've been where you are. I promised my dad I'd take care of Sammy, and I failed. He died in my arms, so I sold my soul to bring him back. Then I broke the first seal. Sam took the heat for starting the Apocalypse, but the reality is, it was me. How many angels died during that, Cas? Hell, you died twice because of it."

"I remember," the angel said.

"Here's what I know. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. Worse than dead. And we both need to put all that crap behind us, because that's where it belongs. We should know better than anyone else that you never know what's coming next. So you're forgiven. Always and forever. Okay?"

Cas responded with a kiss.

 

 **August 22, 2013 @ 6:00pm** ( _T - 120 hours_ )

Todd Sterling stumbled around, helplessness seeping out of every pore on his body. 

"Todd, are we almost there?" Dean asked. "You said it wasn't that far."

"It's not," Todd responded in a panic. "It's not here anymore. It's moved!"

"No," another voice said. 

A figure appeared in the distance, barely lit in the falling sun. 

"That's him!" Todd exclaimed.

"Houdini?" Dean shouted flippantly. 

"You were here last night," the figure said to Todd. "I wonder, did you tell these gentlemen about your offering?"

"Don't listen to him. He's the one who conjures the visions!"

"Hey, asshat!" Sam called. "Who are you?"

"Didn't you tell them about Carl?" the figure asked.

"What about Carl?" Dean asked.

"Oh, to get a vision conjured, one must bring a recently harvested heart from a worthy warrior," replied the figure. "Todd here chose Carl."

With that, Todd charged at the figure. It vanished. 

Dean and Sam readied their guns.

Sam asked, "Is that true, Todd? Did you kill Carl?"

Incoherent and shaking, Todd kept repeating, "He made me, you know that? Death threats, I couldn't take it. I had to know!"

Pop! The figure reappeared not far from them.

Bang! Sam shot and missed.

Pop! Bang! Bang! Pop! Bang! Bang! Pop! Bang! Bang! The dance continued, until – 

Pop! Bang! Bang! Both Dean and Sam shot, narrowly missing the figure, but the bullets sunk into Todd, who failed to take cover. 

"Woo-hoo, would you look at you two, there!" someone said. The voice was giddy and familiar. "Some veeer-ree-nice sharp-shooting there, kids."

Dean and Sam lowered their guns. They knew only one guy with that voice.

Gabriel stood apart from them. "Nice to see you two again."

"You're dead," Sam said. "Lucifer, he killed you."

"Boys, I was never dead. You shoulda known. I mean, how many times did you think you'd killed me? Huh? Huh?"

Dean wanted to speak, but he couldn't make noise come out of his mouth. 

"Do yourselves a favor. Stay away from this place," Gabriel continued. "It doesn't concern you, you'll just hurt yourselves. Okay?"

With a wave of his hand, Sam and Dean (and even the Impala) were back at the motel.

 

 **August 22, 2013 @ 7:00pm** ( _T - 119 hours_ )

Sam carved several new stakes, as their stockpile had mysteriously vanished from the trunk. Meanwhile, Dean spoke with Cas on the phone.

"Yeah, I know that but we just saw the guy," Dean said.

"Dean, Gabriel was one of the first angels I looked for when the civil war in heaven started. He's definitely dead. Lucifer killed him."

"Okay, then, what the hell?" Dean asked.

"Gabriel copied the physical appearance of one of the tricksters to hide himself from the other angels. This must be the real trickster, the one he copied."

"Well, the Legion of Doom all thought he was Loki," Dean said, thinking out loud. Then he yelled to Sam, "Sam, you think this could be Loki?"

"I'm guessing so, yeah," Sam replied. 

"Tricksters are like clockwork when it comes to ritual, especially sacrifices," Cas explained.

"Uh, okay..."

"It means that he will return to the same place at the same time every day," Cas said. "If you plan on killing him, being able to find him is generally imperative."

"When you're right, you're right. Thanks, Cas," Dean said before he hung up. 

"I spoke to Joseph Kane, and a few others who knew our heartless victims," Sam said. "And besides the usual, no one had major enemies or grudges, but they did all take long hikes, go camping, that kind of thing, so it's possible all of them were just targets of opportunity."

"Nerd brothers, nerd angels," Dean muttered. 

"Dean, it's possible the situation is more complicated than simple tribute. A bunch of people killing to see how they're going to die? Takes major mojo to screw with that many people."

"We agreed. There's never more than one crazy thing at time, right?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, his uncertainty lingering in the air. 

"Then we're dealing with a trickster, and he looks like Gabriel, so it's Loki. Let's stab him and get the hell outa here."

 

 **August 23, 2013 @ 10:00am** ( _T - 104 hours_ )

Sam and Dean knocked on the door for apartment 2B. 

"Why are we here? We already know what we're ganking and when and where," Dean complained. "What more do we need?"

"Todd's girlfriend," was all Sam said in reply.

Jenny Kemper opened the door. Somehow, Todd had landed a total babe. 

"Hello?" she said.

"Agents Bonham and – " 

" – you're the FBI?" she interrupted.

"Yes," Sam replied.

She opened her door and walked them in. 

"Todd said... he told me you'd be coming by if he..." 

"We're very sorry, Jenny, but Todd died last night," Dean spoke. 

He omitted who killed him, just in case she had a strong right hook or a frying pan. 

"Todd told you something yesterday, didn't he?" Sam asked.

She replied, "Yeah, he, uh, said Max Bruit told him about some magician who could show you your future. Todd said Max called all his friends two weeks before he died, saying 'I'm going to die on this day at this time, so you need to come say goodbye.'"

"Did Todd mention if Max told anyone else?" Dean asked.

"I guess, I don't know. I didn't believe him till yesterday, when he... I can't really explain, but something was all wrong. He had been getting death threats for a few months... they'd been getting serious, I knew that, but..."

Jenny wasn't crying. It was like the words jammed up in her throat, and she couldn't continue.

"Did Todd tell you why he was being threatened?" Sam inquired.

"No, he said it had something to do with 'a job.'"

"When did the threats start?"

"About six months ago," she replied. "We just got back from a three-week vacation."

"Where were you on vacation?" Dean asked. 

"Connecticut, then New York City," she sputtered. "Is this important?"

"Yes, it's very helpful," Sam replied. "Did Todd have any relatives or friends in the area, anyone else we should talk to?"

"Steven Gaines, they're old friends."

"Thank you, Jenny, for your time," Sam comforted her. "And we are very sorry for your loss."

She followed them to the door and shut it behind them. 

"Max Bruit," Dean repeated on their way out of the building. "That's the name of the guy who died of cancer."

 

 **August 23, 2013 @ 4:00pm** ( _T - 98 hours_ )

Sam's patience was gone. Dean had done nothing but complain about unnecessary research, and meanwhile, he turned up nothing all day on Todd Sterling's past. 

"You know what, Dean? Just take a break or something." 

Dean stomped into the bathroom. 

Sam picked up his phone and dialed the sheriff. 

"Hi, Ash. I'm looking into acquaintances of Todd Sterling, specifically a guy named Steven Gaines. I can't find an address for him. Do you know – "

"Actually, yup," Ash interrupted. "My brother is friends with him."

"Great, we need to talk to him."

"He lives in a cabin, a three hour hike out from town. Doesn't have a phone. I don't think anyone would get you out there this time of night."

"You be willing to take us tomorrow?" 

"No, but Jason Oakes, the forestry guy, he will," Ash replied. "Hey, I'll set it up for you. He'll call."

"Thanks," Sam hung up. 

He sank back in his chair, happy to have a break and some peace and quiet for five minutes. A few moments later, Dean burst back into the room. 

"You want something to eat?" 

"Yeah, I'll have a burger, and we have Plan B now."

"We need a plan B?" 

"Todd took us out there last night, and we didn't find the place. You really think we're going to have better luck just blindly walking around?"

"Fine, genius, then what's plan B?"

"I found someone who was close with Todd, he might know where the place is."

"Might know? That's plan B?"

Sam shot a glare at Dean. "You got another idea?"

Dean left on his food run without another word.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 4:00pm** ( _T - 26 hours_ )

The kitchen had become Dean's favorite place in the bunker, at least before he and Cas had their room ready. Dean felt like he could actually cook, and he found teaching Cas about food oddly enjoyable.

"Okay, so when you cook a steak, you start like this in the pan," explained Dean.

"You preheated the oven," the angel reminded him.

"The pan-broiling comes later, after we sear the steak."

It felt so domestic, stealing kisses between seasoning and sauces. He couldn't complain about a thing.

 

 **August 24, 2013 @ 6:00am** ( _T - 84 hours_ )

Jason Oakes led Sam and Dean, who lagged behind, to Gaines's cabin. 

"No more cases involving hiking," Dean snarled. "Or walking around at dusk looking for stupid – "

" – you all right back there?" Jason yelled. "We've got a long hike ahead."

They came up empty the night before on finding the damn trickster, and now they had more banging around in the woods ahead of them. 

"This sucks."

 

 **August 24, 2013 @ 12:00pm** ( _T - 78 hours_ )

Drained. That's a word Sam and Dean could agree on. Six hours of hiking, and the guy wasn't even in his cabin. He hadn't been there for weeks! 

"What did you grab?" Sam asked.

"Looks like some kind of spell book, but it's got all kinds of crazy in it. Like he copied it down, but scribbled other crap in with it. Could be a summoning spell, but no name is listed. So all we've got is this guy is probably Loki," Dean replied.

Sam smiled when he said, "Well, that and this journal."

"You jerk, you swiped something?" 

"Yeah, and if it's true - and that's a big if - Todd Sterling and a crew pulled some kind of Ocean's Eleven deal in New York City."

"Let me guess, six months ago?"

"You'd be right."

"And I'm guessing some serious bad went down?"

"Right again. They abandoned half their crew to burn to death when the thing went sideways on them."

"So, we're thinking bad karma?"

"All those weird deaths nearby," Sam began. "Ciena Swafford, the animal trainer. Gilbert DeWitt, the dude who drowned. Tirth Sparkman, the film guy. Oh, and according to this, Todd Sterling was a former sniper."

Dean laughed. "Sorry, but us killing a sniper by friendly fire. That's funny."

"Right. Steven Gaines must've been in on the heist, or attempted heist, I guess."

"So, is he dead too?"

"No idea," Sam mused. "But now we know that all the recent trickster-deaths are connected."


	4. Broken

**August 26, 2013 @ 8:00pm** ( _T - 22 hours_ )

Castiel took the dishes into the kitchen, leaving Dean in a very pleasant food coma. 

When he returned, Cas asked, "Dean, will you tell me what's going on?"

So much for the food coma, Dean thought to himself. 

"What do you mean?"

"You've been behaving abnormally, and I believe this was precipitated by events that occurred on the case you just completed."

"I'll tell you tomorrow," Dean replied. "Come on, you were the one complaining about my circadian rhythms, right? Let's go to bed."

Cas pouted. Dean hated when he did that.

"All right, I'll tell you, but only if you promise you'll be here with me for the day. I mean it, no winging out or anything."

"Of course, Dean, I promise."

 

 **August 24, 2013 @ 4:00pm** ( _T - 74 hours_ )

"Okay, so, all I got from this book of crazy, is an area, encircled by natural stones," Dean grimaced, throwing the book he stole on the table. 

"Actually, Todd got us pretty close, there were – " 

The phone rang, interrupted Sam.

"Yes?" Sam answered. He listened. "Did you ask him to – I see. Are you sure? Well, crazier things, right?" After he hung up, Sam said to Dean, "Steven Gaines dropped in on the sheriff."

"Great, let's grab the guy and figure out what he knows!"

"Can't. He disappeared."

"He what?"

"As in, he visited her, told her to back off, then disappeared into thin air. She's currently taking the day off, panicking."

"Awesome."

"I say we head back out to the field, see if we can get to Loki," Sam said. "If that book you have is right, I think I know where he is."

"I want to gank whatever the hell this is and leave, Sam," Dean said. "All this nature and hiking and crap, it's just not healthy."

 

 **August 24, 2013 @ 6:00pm** ( _T - 72 hours_ )

Sam spotted it as soon as they got close, even though it was in the middle of nowhere and very easy to miss. Todd had veered just a little too far east.

Just as dusk fell, the Winchesters stepped inside the circle of stone. A fire burned in the center, casting shadows that didn't look right at all, and the figure stood by the flames. He didn't acknowledge them when they entered.

"Steven Gaines?" Sam asked.

"You were warned not to come here," the figure replied. 

Pop! 

Gaines was suddenly behind Sam, tackling him to the ground. 

Crack! Steven crashed a mallet down narrowly missing Sam's left arm. 

The younger Winchester threw Gaines off him with an old Judo move, but the guy recovered almost immediately. 

Bang! Dean landed a shot to his gut.

Gabriel, or Faux-Gabriel, appeared out of the fire. 

"Boys, boys, how sweet. You brought me an offering, or more specifically, you did, Dean," Faux-Gabriel said.

Then he reached down and pulled out Steven's still-beating heart as if he were picking up a dime. 

Darkness clouded around them, and the dark became darker. Then darkness became a clear reflection. It enveloped Dean.

 _Tuesday, 6pm. Three days from today._ Dean saw - no, he felt - the pop and snap of his neck. Then he watched as his eyes went blank and his body limp. 

"Dean!" Sam cried out into the darkness.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 10:00pm** ( _T - 20 hours_ )

Castiel had gone full angel-of-the-lord on Dean, pacing and frothing. 

"How could you keep this from me?" he demanded.

"Cas, you promised!"

"I promised I would stay with you, not that I would agree with your resignation!"

"Cas, you don't understand," Dean said.

"Then explain!"

 

 **August 24, 2013 @ 8:00pm** ( _T - 70 hours_ )

"Dean, what did you see?" Sam snarled again for the twentieth time since Faux-Gabriel clobbered them with smoke. 

"My neck breaking, okay?"

"When?" 

"Three days from today."

"We need a game plan to gank this guy, Dean, a good one."

"According to Cas, he'll be back in the same spot. Assuming he doesn't move on."

"No, from what I read, he never misses a chance to trick someone, so all we need is to add a little bait," Sam plotted.

"I could do that," Dean replied. Then he added, "Is it sad I miss Gabriel?"

Sam laughed a little, but he was worried. The lore never mentioned Loki's ability to predict the future, let alone grant visions to anyone. Maybe he picked up that trick somewhere?

"For now, all we can do is wait for our next chance," Sam said, hating the idea.

 

 **August 25, 2013 @ 6:00pm** ( _T - 48 hours_ )

The Winchesters returned the next night to the stone-encircled fire, eyes open for Faux-Gabriel. Like clockwork, the trickster appeared, annoyed.

"You know, Dean, I thought you were smarter than the other fools I've been dealing with," Faux-Gabriel said.

"Smarter isn't one of my better qualities," Dean deflected. "I have no interest in dying. You see, gotta lotta good things going for me, so, hows about you erase your little prediction?"

Faux-Gabriel sized him up then asked, "You think I'm going to kill you?"

"Isn't that what you've been doing?" Dean shot at him. "Showing people your plans to gank them?"

"For the asshats that've been coming for the last week, sure, but the first guy who came to me, he just wanted to know how much longer he had left."

"Let me guess, three years?"

"See, you're not a total idiot, Sparky," Faux-Gabriel replied. "But my predictions don't just taunt the idiots that I plan on killing. They are truth, Dean, pure and simple. You look into the smoke, and the mirror reflects the future back to you."

"You're saying I'm going to die in a few days, and it's got nothing to do with you?"

"I'm saying what you saw is - or rather, will become - truth, and, now I'm telling you, whatever you did see, it wasn't me doing it to you. I showed you a part of your future, nothing more."

"So ganking you won't save me?" Dean asked.

"No, sorr – " 

Faux-Gabriel did not get a chance to finish his thought. Sam shoved the stake through his back to his stomach. 

"Oh gosh!" the Trickster exclaimed. 

For a second, everything seemed right. The trickster swayed, ready to fall over, but then he reached down and pulled out the stake, leaving not a scratch in its wake.

"Sorry, boys, you're thinking of a trickster," Faux-Gabriel jabbed. "And a weak one at that. You'll need a lot more than this toothpick if you want me off the board."

Crash. Faux-Gabriel threw Sam into Dean, and they collapsed together on the ground. They looked up to see the Faux-Gabriel falling away. His face sharpened. His body shifted: smoke and fire and darkness. Before them was not a trickster, but Tezcatlipoca, the deity of fate and divination, of darkness and the sun, and within his form a jaguar, an eagle, and a man. 

"You can't escape your fate, Dean. Don't believe me? Then see the others," his voice echoed hugely throughout the mountains as smoke enveloped them.

_They saw..._

_Gilbert DeWitt put himself on lockdown to avoid drowning. As he washed up, he suddenly had a seizure, finally sinking below the water in his bathtub._

_Then they saw..._

_Ciena Swafford hid with a friends to avoid an animal attack. One of those friends had a guard dog, and as soon as she saw it, she ran in abject terror. She bolted as fast as she could out into the woods, straight into the path of a black bear._

"I get it!" Dean yelled into the smoke, trying to stop the visions from choking him. "I get it! I get it!"

And then everything stopped. Tezcatlipoca disappeared, leaving the two brothers alone in the smoke-filled enclosure with the dying embers of the fire.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 10:00pm** ( _T - 20 hours_ )

"Dean, we can bring you back from this, okay?" Cas said. "We'll find a way – "

"Cas, Death showed me what that kind of thing does," Dean interrupted. "When I was trying to get Sammy's soul back, he showed me how much damage that can cause. It could cost you and Sam your lives, or worse."

Cas revved up for another round, so Dean preemptively said, "I don't want to fight right now."

"This isn't going to be your last night with me. You understand?"

Dean replied, "Humor me."

He took Cas's collar and pulled him into a kiss, then got up and headed for their room. 

"You coming?"

 

 **August 25, 2013 @ 8:00pm** ( _T - 46 hours_ )

"Fine, fine, fine!" Sam snapped. "I won't call Cas, but we need a plan here. There's nothing on how to kill Tezcatlipoca. I can only find one legend of his defeat, when another god knocked him off of the sun."

"Not helpful," Dean replied. 

"The colt will work on him," Sam said. "If there's no banishing spell, we can shoot him."

"That's not what's going on here, Sammy. He told me he wasn't planning on killing me. Maybe my time is coming."

"You believe him?" Sam asked. "You really believe what he said? You?"

"He's had, what? Three chances to kill me or you so far. He hasn't. This guy is legit, Sam, everything we know points to that. Two days, that's it. I'm dead, nothing we can do will change that. Look at – "

" – so, what, you're just going to give up?" Sam bellowed, interrupting him.

"No, I wanna spend the last two days I know I have with you and Cas. With my family."

"And I'm just suppose to laugh and smile and sit by while you die?" 

"Sam, please – "

"Damn it, Dean," Sam interrupted. "You wanna fold your hand, go ahead, but I'm gonna find a way to get you out of this. Because you're my brother, and I love you, I won't let you die."

"Killing this guy isn't gonna stop it," Dean said. "Let's just – "

"No."

Dean hesitated for a moment.

"Love you, Sam," Dean whispered before he slipped out the door.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 10:00pm** ( _T - 20 hours_ )

Cas followed Dean to their room, trying to keep himself from breaking his promise and smiting whatever -

The idea was blown from his mind. In one elegant movement, Dean grabbed him and pulled him onto their bed, which Cas had just remade for the third time today. 

Dean sat, pulling Cas over to him. His hands were suddenly everywhere; Cas never really understood how he managed it. His fingers slipped along Cas's jaw, then down to the back of his neck, then down to his shoulder blade. Dean's other hand was on the outside of Cas's thigh. As he squeezed, Cas felt his entire body tense. 

Dean yanked off the angel's t-shirt with little effort, but when Cas went to join him on the bed, Dean stopped him with a kiss. Still standing, he felt his hunters lips slide down his neck, then chest, then onto his happy trail.

Cas hadn't realized Dean had already slid off his pants. Again, the angel made to join him on the bed, but Dean wouldn't allow him. He nipped at his hipbones, and one of his hands grabbed the end of his boxers and tugged playfully at the elastic. 

"Dean," the angel let out as a soft moan. 

Below him, still sitting on the bed, Dean tugged Cas's boxers off, letting them bunch around his ankles. His erection reacted to the cold air suddenly around it. Dean stroked his inner thighs, his ass, his back, looking up at him. 

Cas took hold of Dean's shoulders to keep upright, since that seemed to be part of the plan. Dean made eye contact, as if to ask for permission. 

"Dean..."

Leaning forward, following his happy trail with his lips, Dean found the head of Cas's interest, and slowly wound his tongue around it. Using his hands, he cupped his balls and dragged his tongue from the base to the tip, then down again, like a long lollipop lick. 

Cas felt his entire body jerk forward, then watched as Dean took him slowly into his mouth. 

Stringing his fingers into Dean's hair, Cas let out a howl of pleasure that he couldn't contain, and his only regret was that Dean remained dressed. The angel could see that his hunter had his own erection, and he couldn't just stand by and do nothing. 

When Dean pulled back to lick again, Cas swept down and picked Dean up in a confused kiss. He made quick work of Dean's clothing, tossed them across the room on the other piles they'd left before. 

But Dean wasn't willing to give up control that easily. His crafty hands made their way down to Cas's shaft, and he began slowly sliding up and down. Distracted, Cas was easily maneuvered onto his back. 

Leaning on one elbow, Dean kept himself over Cas's body, almost on all fours. Keeping his grip and wrist moving, he let Cas lead him into a deep, sloppy kiss as the angel's hands were somewhat pinned under Dean.

It was particularly surprising for Dean when Cas's right hand appeared on his inner thigh, his fingers lubed and ready. He must've found the bottle of lube they'd lost under the mattress earlier that day. The angel worked his finger around Dean's entrance, giving Dean a run for his money as he circle and circled and circled.

Dean moaned into the kiss they shared, and Cas took that moment to penetrate. Just one finger, than two... Dean was losing his composure, and worse, his grip... He let go and put his other arm down to balance himself over Cas, who now had four fingers wriggling inside him.

"Cas – we..." his voice hitched. 

The sweat was heavier than he thought it would be. Cas's other hand ran up Dean's leg, then over to his ass. The other hand joined it.

Dean perked up and, kissing the angel, shifted his weight so he straddled Cas's hips, kneeling. Then Cas pushed back. He sat up, so Dean had move to sitting back on his legs. He could feel Cas's erection dangerously close.

Dean pushed Cas back down to the bed, so he could see him splayed out beneath him. Together, they shifted position so Cas could penetrate. Cas kept his hands on Dean's hips, holding him in place, but Dean had all the control right now. 

Slowly, very slowly, he lowered himself, keeping his body as straight as possible. He reached down to Cas, letting his hands dig into his flesh.

When he was sheathed, one of Cas's hands, the lubed one, slipped over Dean's erection. The tiniest of pulls made Dean whimper, literally whimper, as he jutted his hips back up and down, rocking with Cas's movements.

Dean came first, he did his best to keep his position so Cas could, too, but instead, he pulled out and let loose along Dean's backside. Dean collapsed over his angel, feeling weak, kissing aimlessly.

"Dean..." Cas whispered. "I don't want you to die."

"Neither do I," he said. 

"Dean, please..." 

Something about the idea of death lifted the weight off Dean's shoulders. He'd miss Cas and Sam, but the fact that the tunnel was closing soon made Dean feel less anxious. He didn't have to worry about Cas going crazy and leaving him. Or Sam for that matter. 

Suddenly his post-coital bliss was replaced with self-reprimand. Was it really that hard for him to hope for the best? So hard, that it was easier to find solace in death than in the possibility of a happy future?

"Have a little hope, Cas," Dean heard himself say. "I do."


	5. Ash

**August 26, 2013 @ 6:00pm** ( _T - 24 hours_ )

Sam waited, hating himself, outside that damn fire. 

Faux-Gabriel, or Tezcatlipoca, reappeared. 

"You know, you are my most frequent caller, Sam Winchester. You've managed to survive me three times, and yet you're back for more," Tezcatlipoca said, preening. "Truth is, I am a patron of warriors. I have no beef with you or your brother. I'm actually rather intrigued by it all."

"Then save his life," Sam snapped.

"What Dean has seen will come to pass, Sam," Tezcatlipoca replied. "He peeked into the future, he saw something, but it's nothing to do with me. I've already told you. Even if you could kill me, it would be pointless."

"If I could kill you? You sound skeptical," Sam said. 

Bang! He fired the colt.

If Tezcatlipoca was intrigued with Sam before, it was nothing as to how he felt now. Now he was completely impressed. 

"You actually possess a weapon that can kill me," he said. "I can honestly say this is the first that's ever happened."

Sam felt disoriented. He had shot at him, and he hadn't moved. So how did he miss?

"Sam, I see the future. That's no trick. I knew you were going to do that. Tell you what, I'll give you a better shot. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. A duel, if you will. No divination for me."

"Really? Just like that?"

"You, me, here, tomorrow. Your brother stays benched. I do so love a challenge," he said.

Then he disappeared.

 

 **August 26, 2013 @ 3:00am** ( _T - 16 hours_ )

Dean slept, and the angel watched. His eyes fluttered open, and Cas pulled back, worried he'd be admonished for 'being creepy' as Dean put it.

But Dean just smiled. 

"Sorry, must've dozed off?" 

"You did," Cas replied.

Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

"You told me once that you weren't a hammer," Dean said.

"I remember."

"That was a long time ago, before we really knew each other. You said you questioned orders... you had doubts. But the other angels, most of them anyway, they never really seemed to."

"Yes."

"I guess I'm wondering, why?"

"You want to know why I'm not a hammer?" 

"I know why you're not one now. I guess I'm wondering why you weren't one before."

"Honestly, I don't know," Cas admitted. "I've always admired humanity. Maybe it rubbed off on me over the millennia."

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 8:00am** ( _T - 10 hours_ )

Sam pulled out his phone and called, because he should've done it hours ago.

"Hello?" Cas picked up.

"Cas? Is Dean there?"

"He is, but he is unwilling to answer the phone."

"Put it on speaker, please."

"Okay..."

The phone clicked as the angel switch modes.

"Dean, listen, I get it. I do. And I'm sorry I didn't go with you, but I just wanted to say, me too, okay? I'll talk to you when I get back."

Sam could hear the muffled sounds of a struggle. 

"What's going on?" he asked.

Click, the speaker phone was off.

"Sorry, Dean uh, went to the bathroom," Cas said. He was a terrible liar. 

"It's okay, I get it," Sam said.

"Sam, I could come and get you," the angel offered.

"I could use your help here, Cas."

"I promised Dean I'd stay with him," Cas said. The pain in his voice vibrated through the phone.

"Cas..."

"It's what he wants, Sam."

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 8:00am** ( _T - 10 hours_ )

Cas put the phone down after Sam hung up, then proceeded back to their room.

"Your brother loves you, Dean," the angel said to the grouchy hunter curled up on their bed.

"You know, Sam and Dad never got a long. Sometimes I forget that they're so much alike."

"Your brother and father?"

Dean motioned for Cas to join him on their bed, so he did.

"My dad used to say stuff like that to me, like what Sam just said," Dean continued. "Jo, Ellen, you remember them? They were like, I don't know, extended family, after my dad died. They wanted to help us out." Dean leaned back in the angel's arms, "Ash, I don't think you met him, he died a while back. Sam and I met him through Jo and Ellen."

Cas said, "You want to spend your last hours on earth, telling me all this?"

Dean nodded. He said, "When I picture myself happy, it's always me, eating with you and Sam, or driving around, or watching TV or something... it's never anything glamorous or flashy. It's just me, my family, and that's it."

Cas didn't know what to say.

Dean continued, "Anyway, Ash was this crazy genius, still is, up in heaven actually..."

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 10:00am** ( _T - 8 hours_ )

Sam pulled out his old university eyes and typing fingers. He remembered reading something about Tezcatlipoca being injured during the creation of the world. 

Yes, Tezcatlipoca had helped Quetzalcoatl tame the Earth Monster to make the world. For his trouble, the Earth Monster ripped off his right foot. In its place, he wore his Obsidian Mirror, the Smoking Mirror of Truth through which he divined the future. 

Sam smiled. Anything made of obsidian could break.

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 12:00pm** ( _T - 6 hours_ )

"There is something I've wanted to ask you," Dean said.

"Then you should ask, because you've only six hours left," the angel said, hoping it might snap Dean out of his stupor.

"What do you look like?"

Castiel turned his head in confusion.

"I mean, I know I can't really see you, without my eyeballs burning out of my head. What do you look like in your true form?"

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 5:30pm** ( _T - 30 minutes_ )

Dean had turned all the clocks away, removed every watch. It was as if the room was timeless. Cas had explained his true form to Dean, who seemed exhilarated by his answer.

Castiel felt helpless, but if these really were Dean's last moments, he didn't want to sulk. Not knowing what else to say or to do, he reached out and took his hunter's shoulders in his hands.

"You keep so much tension in your muscles," Castiel commented. "You don't have to, do you know that?"

Slowly, he pressed his thumbs along Dean's shoulder blades. Sliding them up towards his neck. Dean clenched at the initial pain, but he didn't ask the angel to stop. He felt warm relief flooding in after the pain ebbed away.

Cas brought his hands down to his lower back, using first light pressure, then deep pressure, up and up his spine. Dean groaned at this; long drives and fighting meant lower back pain for him. He leaned into it and didn't say a word as Cas continued.

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 5:30pm** ( _T - 30 minutes_ )

Sam arrived early, worried he might miss his chance. His nerves were peeling into him, so he steadied himself. The colt was ready. Sam was ready.

Tezcatlipoca approached in his Faux-Gabriel form, pompous and jaunty like it's his own little world. 

"I'll admit it, I'm surprise," he said.

"About what?" 

"Your brother, he's not here," said Tezcatlipoca. "You know, most mooks see their future and go about trying to prevent it, only to cause it. That whole self-fulfilling prophecy thing."

"I didn't come here to chat about human nature."

"No, you – "

Crack! The gun sounded more like a whip than a bang. The echo of a breaking window, then a screeching wind, quickly followed. He'd hit the right foot.

"Whoa, hey now, kid!" Tezcatlipoca shouted. "That's fighting dirty, but I gotta respect your effort."

Sam could hear it in his voice. Whatever bravado this asshat was using, it hide the pain.

"Not too many people know to do that, you know, shattering the mirror," Tezcatlipoca said as he melted. "All you did, though, was break the spell that brought me here, kiddo. Thanks for that."

"No!" Sam yelled.

The figure underneath Faux-Gabriel was part-jaguar, part-man, with birdlike features in his eyes.

"You and your brother are fascinating specimens, I must say. Go ahead, shoot me with your magic gun," the deity chirped. "My death will mean nothing. As I said, what was seen will come to pass, Sam. You think you'd be better versed in this by now. I'll be seeing you around."

"What does that mean?" Sam shouted into the dark that gathered around him.

Tezcatlipoca melted completely into the air, but a sliver stuck in Sam's mind, as if he had left Sam a mental note, a literal one.

"What he saw will become truth. The question is, what did he really see? Because the trouble with seeing the future, kid, is all about interpretation."

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 5:59pm** ( _T – 1 minute_ )

The knots in Dean's shoulders were particularly strained. Cas pulled the hunter back, so he was sitting across his lap, and used his elbow to push into the muscles. 

Dean hadn't gotten a massage. Not like this one. It wasn't just because Cas was an angel and knew crap about human biology; it's because Cas was Cas. He knew every tense muscle, every clenching nerve. Between the sex and the not sleeping for more than two hours at time for the last two days, Dean felt loopy. Dizzy, even. The relaxation was causing an involuntary relapse into his childhood days when crying was enough to get someone to pay attention and care for your every need. 

Finally, the tension in his shoulders vanished, Dean let his neck go limp. Cas placed both hands on either side of his face and shift the muscles to the left, then the right. 

Pop! SNAP! 

Some tendon or muscle or bone or whatnot clicked into its rightful place. Blood flowed through Dean like a rising flood, and for a blissful minute, his mind went blank as he collapsed into Castiel's arms. It was like an orgasm, but for his entire body. Any skin not red from rubbing was quickly turned pink from heat and oxygen. 

Cas kissed Dean, first on the neck, then on the lips. 

"Mmm," Dean mummbled. "Thanks, Cas, for keeping your promise and staying. I know you didn't want to."

"It was nothing," Castiel dismissed. "I love you."

"Me too Cas," Dean said. 

Then he fell asleep.

Cas gently placed his hunter on the bed. Then he rushed over to the nearest clock to see what time it was.

6:01pm. 

The angel check Dean's pulse. It was strong. 

He checked the other clocks, Dean's phone, whatever apparatuses he could find with a time keeping mechanism. He checked htem all.

It was 6:05pm. Dean still had a pulse.

 

 **August 27, 2013 @ 6:15pm** ( _T + 15 minute_ )

"Sam?" Cas answered the phone. 

Sam's heart sunk. If Dean wasn't picking up the phone, then that could only mean – 

"Dean's alive," Cas said, interrupting his thought.

"What, but I didn't kill the – "

"He's alive, Sam, he's fine," the angel interrupted.

"How?"

"I don't know, but he's asleep right now, and I don't want to wake him."

Sam felt himself smile involuntary, even let out a laugh of relief. 

"Okay, well, I gotta clean house here, but, maybe you can, you know, zap over here and pick me up around seven-thirty?"

"Dean would be displeased."

"Dean is asleep, so he can't be displeased. Besides, he took the car."

"Very well, I'll be at the motel room at exactly seven-thirty tonight. We will have to leave immediately as the other angels will detect me as soon as I teleport."

"I understand. Thanks, Cas," Sam said as he hung up.

Sam stared out the window for a few moments. He couldn't stop smiling. 

"I thought you said you weren't a trickster!" he shouted into the night. 

No one responded. 

Something in his mind warned him that they hadn't gotten away scot-free. Tezcatlipoca said he'd be seeing them again, and that could never be a good thing, right?

Sam shook it off. Tonight, he had something to smile about.


End file.
